


Somewhere Over the Rainbow

by Lacerta26



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Intercrural Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Pride, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta26/pseuds/Lacerta26
Summary: Harry hasn’t been to Soho for a drink in some years let alone clutching a cheap pint in the middle of the day surrounded by thronging crowds of excitable people several years his junior. Harry not sure being packed into the busy streets or struggling to find a spot on the grass in Soho Square was ever his idea of a good time. But Eggsy wanted to come so here they are and Harry can’t help but be warmed by the rainbow bunting fluttering from every streetlamp and the overwhelming joy radiating from the crowd.*After London Pride Eggsy has a suprise for Harry.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 85





	Somewhere Over the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> This has been hanging about in my drafts since last pride. Guess we'll only have fictional prides to enjoy this year :/
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry hasn’t been to Soho for a drink in some years let alone clutching a cheap pint in the middle of the day surrounded by thronging crowds of excitable people several years his junior. They’ve missed the parade, which Eggsy confidently declared a waste of time if you don’t get a good spot and there's never anywhere decent to go for a piss, anyway. Harry is inclined to agree but this hasn’t been his scene in a long time either and he’s not sure being packed into the busy streets or struggling to find a spot on the grass in Soho Square was ever his idea of a good time. But Eggsy wanted to come so here they are and Harry can’t help but be warmed by the rainbow bunting fluttering from every streetlamp and the overwhelming joy radiating from the crowd. 

Eggsy isn’t wearing a shirt, his shoulders and the tips of ears are kissed pink by the sun and glitter has fallen from the bright sweeps on his cheeks to sparkle on his chest. He left the house like that, a moment on the doorstep that gave Harry pause, but he has to concede it’s hardly the most risqué outfit he’s seen today. Harry is in a suit, grey-blue linen, no tie, and older couples keep smiling at him knowingly; the solidarity of having made it this far.

Watching Eggsy flitting between various groups, people he knows well and friends he’s made in the last half an hour, is enough for Harry who left his more daring behaviour in the 80s, if you don’t count regularly saving the world or have a 26 year old boyfriend. The crowd Eggsy’s chatting to now, a girl he knew at school and her girlfriend, a drag queen, and some lads who work at a bar up the road, all turn in unison to look at Harry without a hint of shame. One of them unmistakably purses their lips to whistle and Harry finds himself marginally less scandalised than he knows he should be.

Eggsy is a show-off; he likes the attention but more than that he likes nothing more than to do something well, for his effort to be noticed and to be praised. It’s easy to watch Eggsy glow under that praise, to come to believe he deserves it, to wear his confidence well. Harry feels, not unreasonably, that when they go out he’s usually the one showing off about Eggsy. Not in an ostentatious way, it can’t be helped, really, with Eggsy looking like he does, charming without a hint of insincerity. People look at him appreciatively and then they look at Harry and see a man done well for himself and Harry can’t deny there’s a touch of pride there, to know he’s worth showing off about too. Harry smiles benignly and tips his beer towards them in acknowledgement, why not allow Eggsy to indulge in a little boast here and there?

*

It’s late when they get home, buzzing from the sunshine and too many drinks that devolved into dancing in the street, the noise from every club blending into one pulsing beat and everyone euphoric from the excitement of the day or with chemical assistance. Harry feels rather come apart at the seams himself, shirt almost totally unbuttoned, jacket hooked on two fingers and thrown over his shoulder. He hasn’t seen the state of his hair and he knows there’s glitter in unspeakable places despite his best attempts to avoid it but he doesn’t care. The day was a joy; Eggsy exuberant, youthful in a way he so rarely gets to be with the responsibility of their job and Harry will gift him the opportunity as often as he can. He’s sure the hangovers they’ll be sporting tomorrow might lessen his current happiness but he is not one to shirk a challenge or be left behind, matching Eggsy drink for drink, shot for shot, dance for dance. 

Through the door as quiet as they can Eggsy stretches in the hallway, the twin dimples at the base of his spine an unholy temptation and before he’s fully turned around at the bottom of the stairs, grinning, delighted, Harry has him pressed against the wall, the hot line of his back scorching through his shirt.

Eggsy laughs, almost a giggle, and arches into Harry’s touch, ‘what’s got into you?’

‘You have, darling. Showing off all day.’

‘I was not showing off.’

Harry splays a hand on Eggsy’s chest, damp with sweat and gritty with glitter under his finger tips to grind his erection harder into Eggsy’s arse, ‘you are capable of nothing less.’

‘I was just lettin’ everyone know how well I've done for myself. Who I get to come home to.’

‘As flattering as that is, it’s unbefitting of a gentleman,’ Harry murmurs, ‘what am I to do with you?’ 

He nips at the back of Eggsy’s neck, letting his other hand drift towards Eggsy’s waistband, ‘give you the attention you so obviously want?’ 

‘Uh-huh,’ Eggsy nods reflexively, lost in the feel of Harry’s hands on him but then he stills suddenly, ‘Harry, Harry, wait, please,’ voice still full of heat but squirming beneath Harry to get away from his wandering hands rather than continuing to put himself in them. 

Harry stops moving, presses a kiss to his shoulder, ‘darling?’

Eggsy turns to lean against the wall, shoulders back and hips forward. His eyes tip down, almost coy, to where Harry's hands have landed on his waist and back up so their eyes meet. Harry knows that look, what it promises. 

‘What do you have for me?’

‘Why don’t you find out,’ Eggsy catches his bottom lip between his teeth, raising his arms above his head, and Harry’s hands drift to Eggsy’s belt, to the hard outline of his dick straining the denim. 

He almost doesn’t notice it at first, as he gets Eggsy’s flies open, before he gets his hands on the hot, damp lace; beneath his jeans Eggsy is wearing knickers in a navy so dark they’re almost black.

‘Oh, you spoil me, my darling boy.’

‘Yeah well you indulged me all day, thought I’d indulge you all night.’

‘All night?’ Harry raises his eyebrow and glances at his watch, 2am already and neither of them are about to put the breaks on this. 

‘Unless, you need to get your beauty sleep, old man?’

‘Not a chance.’

*

In the middle of their bed Eggsy is a dream; the contrast of the lace against the pale gold of his skin, glowing in the light from the bedside lamp. He lounges against the pillows, the very picture of insouciance, watching Harry take off the remains of his suit, there’s glitter still glinting across his chest, despite hastily wiping the worst of it off his face with a t-shirt from the laundry basket and he’s smiling like Harry is his whole world. God, in how many ways does Harry want to tell him the feeling’s mutual. 

Harry approaches the bed, a light touch to Eggsy’s ankle and says, ‘turn over,’ surprised by the speed with which he complies, ‘aren’t you eager.’

‘Yeah,’ Eggsy throws over his shoulder, as Harry goes to his knees on the foot of the bed, ‘‘s been a long day, Harry, want you.’

Knee walking up the bed Harry chuckles, ‘we could always wait until the morning if you’re tired.’

‘Nah, come on,’ Eggsy says, the arch of his back an obvious invitation and Harry shuffles closer, kissing the dip of his spine, tracing the top edge of his knickers with the tip of one finger like he can’t bear to touch all at once. Eggsy makes a picture Harry’ll be returning to after tonight; the gentle scallop of the lace cuts across his waist, just above the crease of his arse and rides high across the curve of each cheek, pulled taut in the most inviting way. 

Pulling down the waistband Harry is delighted to discover the lace has imprinted it’s design on Eggsy’s skin, a delicate pattern of lace across his arse. Harry kisses him there, on his left arse cheek, and knocks his knees apart, watches as Eggsy goes oh so willingly, on to his shoulders, face against the pillows and arse offered up for the taking. 

Eggsy knows what Harry would want, no doubt has engineered the whole thing, knows what a sucker Harry is for lace over a hard-on and his general rapturous appreciation for Eggsy’s arse. There’s no way he isn’t going to take what’s being offered so readily. 

‘Can I rip these?’ whispers Harry into the skin of Eggsy’s hip, he won’t if Eggsy says not to, but in this moment all he wants is to tear the lace off Eggsy’s body, desperate to get to what’s waiting for him underneath.

Eggsy snorts into the pillow, ‘yeah, they were only cheap, 3 pairs for 10 quid.’ 

Given license, Harry runs his finger down the centre seam, straight down to Eggsy’s balls. He can feel where the fabric is pulled taut by Eggsy’s erection, the slippery dampness where he’s been leaking steadily since they stopped in the hallway. One last touch of his lips to Eggsy’s skin and Harry sits back up to pull, feeling the give of the fabric, relishing the sound as the crack of Eggsy’s arse is revealed to him, framed by torn lace, still covered in the pattern, indented into his skin.

‘Beautiful.’ 

Eggsy widens his stance, fabric bunching around the top of his thighs and Harry leans in, licks the velvet smoothness of Eggsy’s recent wax job, tastes skin and soap and sweat from the long day. He pauses for a moment and just looks at the soft pink skin, the dark lace, only just clinging to Eggsy’s body and wonders, not for the first time, if this is where he finds god, here between Eggsy’s glorious thighs. 

There’s a considering noise from somewhere near the pillows and Harry looks up to see Eggsy looking at him from over his shoulder, ‘you need an invitation?’, as he wiggles his arse in Harry’s face. 

Harry chuckles, spreads Eggsy’s cheeks and licks, a broad stripe, just to shut him up before going back in with the point of his tongue, gentle little circles around the furled hole and Eggsy goes boneless beneath him. The groan he gets from that first touch of tongue is a wonderful sound, uncomplicated and honest, and Harry gets a firmer grip on Eggsy’s arse and goes in again, long wet licks and shorter presses with the point of his tongue. It’s a joy taking Eggsy apart like this and one of Harry’s favourites although it doesn’t come up often in their bedroom repertoire desperate as they often are to be close, quickly, face to face, the give and take between them more evenly meted out.

But this slow, syrupy seduction is one Harry takes great delight in. They don’t save it for special occasions as such, and if he asked Eggsy would be happy to sit on his face a great deal more but as it is it’s a rare treat and he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to make the most of it. 

Eggsy’s moving his hips fitfully now, fucking himself back onto Harry’s tongue like he’s desperate to get friction on his dick from the air, making little huffs of effort and pleasure as Harry winds him higher. Shifting up on his knees Harry rubs his thumb over Eggsy’s hole, slick now from his spit and soft, and Eggsy pushes back against him, the tip of Harry’s thumb just breaching, just slipping inside, holding his place. He goes back in with his mouth, sucking kisses to Eggsy’s rim, feeling him relax even more, all the tension slipping away. 

‘Harry,’ Eggsy whines and Harry can feel from the fluttering of his hole under his tongue that he’s getting close. 

It’s the work of some very gentle maneuvering, in which Harry doesn’t even have to take his tongue out of Eggsy’s arse, to get one arm between his legs and cup his cock, give him something to rut against as Harry reapplies himself to the task at hand, runs the tip of his finger around Eggsy’s hole, open now, and slips inside easily, delighting in the feel of Eggsy’s cock in his other hand, rock hard under the lace.

‘How do you want it, darling? My tongue or my fingers?’ Harry punctuates his question with a gentle pressing forward of his hand, adding another finger and finding Eggsy’s prostate, stroking with gentle pulls.

‘Either, Harry, both. I don’t care. Just make me come, please.’ 

Harry smiles, licks around his fingers, quick and wet, and tightens his other hand around Eggsy’s prick, the lace of his ruined knickers absolutely soaked already and Eggsy comes in a rush of air punched out of his lungs, pitching forward onto the bed. 

They lie there, Harry’s arm awkwardly pinned under Eggsy and his forehead pressed to the sweaty skin of his thigh, until Eggsy squirms, shifts away from him across the bed, wriggling the torn fabric down his legs and off before he rolls back over to pull Harry into a kiss.

‘Fuck me, babe, wow,’ it’s gratifying to have rendered Eggsy so inchoherent and to be kissed with such fervour. For all the work he’s put his mouth to this evening they haven't actually kissed much and it’s easy to be swallowed into the slow back and forth of Eggsy’s tongue against his, all that hot, smooth body pressed up against him but he’s so hard it hurts and he doesn’t have any time for patience now it’s not Eggsy’s pleasure he’s seeing to.

‘On your side for me dearest, turn over.’

Eggsy looks a little dazed when they disengage, dopey with pleasure and sleepy, well past 3am as it is now. 

‘I ain’t doing any work,’ he says, all flailing limbs as he rolls over to face away from Harry, ‘you can fuck me tomorrow,’ but he still arches his back, rolls his hips and Harry knows it’s an empty threat. They won’t fuck now anyway, Harry’s too desperate, on a knife edge of pleasure, and it’s too much bother. 

‘Charming and after I put in all that work to make you come.’

Eggsy smirks, stretching languidly, comfortable here, in bed with Harry, ‘you like making me come.’ 

Harry kisses the nape of his neck, ‘that I do,’ and pulls Eggsy a little closer.

That makes Eggsy shift with more purpose, despite his earlier complaints, as he lets Harry’s dick ride in the cleft of his arse. Harry indulges the imperfect rhythm for a moment, letting Eggsy tease him, but it’s not enough. His spit on Eggsy’s arse has all but dried now, but he’s leaking well enough, precome slicking his thrusts, the friction the perfect edge to teeter on as he seeks his climax. He grips Eggsy’s hips to keep him still, chasing that pleasure, feeling the firm flesh of that perfect arse give beneath his fingers as he fucks forward. He cannot think of praise enough for this, settles on endearments murmured into Eggsy’s hair, a counterpoint to the desperate slide of their bodies. 

‘Harry,’ Eggsy gasps, breath hitched, and Harry has just enough wherewithal to reach around to feel his dick, hard again, just from Harry rutting against him. It’s too much, the thought of all that desire aimed at him, indulged for him, and then Harry’s coming, all over his boy's arse, a vision in ruined lace.

‘Harry,’ Eggsy says again, desperate this time, how he’s kept his hands off himself god only knows, but Harry takes pity, strokes his hand once, twice over the head of Eggsy’s cock and Eggsy comes, his whole body pulled taut, arching and cursing as he shudders through it. 

‘You are insatiable,’ says Harry, when Eggsy finally blinks up at him, grinning like the cheshire cat and submitting to Harry wiping him clean with the ruined knickers he’s rescued from the floor. 

When they’re as clean as they’ll get and tucked under a fresh sheet, Eggsy sated and sleepy in his arms, Harry considers the benefits of indulging in some showing off himself. Taking Eggsy out in a beautifully cut suit knowing exactly what he has on underneath. Bringing him home and taking him apart.

‘How many pairs of these did you say you had bought?’

‘Three. Two now I guess. You gonna do that to all of them?’

‘Maybe,’ 

‘Well, maybe I'll save ‘em for next pride then. Special treat.’ 

Harry obviously doesn’t hide his consternation at the thought of waiting a whole year as well as he thinks he does because Eggsy laughs up at him, muffling his giggles into Harry’s shoulder.

‘Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you, babe.’

‘I should hope not.’ 

‘You could buy me some more. Proper silk. Agent Provocateur and all that shit.’ 

‘And how will that kind of indulgence teach you some subtlety? Gentlemen are not supposed to show off, you know.’

‘You can talk.’

‘I can’t think what you mean’

‘Biggest show off in the business Harry Hart is.’

There’s a fleck of glitter on Eggsy’s cheek, glinting in the low light, ‘how could I not be, darling, when it’s you I have by my side.’


End file.
